


Pearl Bakes a Pie

by StrawberryR



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Baking, Comfort Food, Dialogue Light, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-18
Updated: 2015-01-18
Packaged: 2018-03-08 03:59:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3194510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrawberryR/pseuds/StrawberryR
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pearl's home alone for a few hours and decides to spend her free time doing something she loves: baking an apple pie!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pearl Bakes a Pie

_Voosh._ The door to Pearl’s room opened, and like a deer sneaking around a tree, Pearl darted out, excited and nervous, peeking around the corners to see if the coast was clear. She tip-toed out and giddily hurried into the small kitchen of the house, delighted to find herself alone.  _Finally,_ she thought,  _a chance to do what I’ve been putting off for months!_

She knelt down and rummaged around the cubbies under the island, pulling out various measuring cups and spoons. They were colorful plastic sets, each with a star on the front with the measurement. Pearl turned around and stood on her toes to reach two large mixing bowls from the shelf on the other side of the kitchen. In a matter of moments, all the equipment she needed was out on the tabletop, clean and ready to use. She looked at it, pursed her lips, and straightened everything out in a nice, neat order. The cups were on the left, all the measuring spoons and mixing implements were on the right, the first bowl was in front of her, and beyond the bowl was a dusty old red cookbook.

Pearl picked up the book first, flipping through the pages until she came to the recipe she wanted. _Grandma Universe’s Best Ever Apple Pie._

“A-ha! Just what I was looking for,” Pearl chirruped. She set the book down flat, gliding her long, thin finger over the page to see what ingredients she would need. Mumbling to herself, she memorized the ingredient list out loud.

Out from the cabinets came opaque tupperware containers, each one smaller, made to nest within one another. Flour, sugar, and brown sugar first. Then off the spice rack that sat above the sink, Pearl carefully pulled out a little bottle of cinnamon and a bottle of nutmeg, placing them gently near her bowl, rotating them ever so slightly so that the labels both faced the same direction. Butter and salt were next, then the milk jug from the fridge. She shut the refrigerator door and looked at her table. The only thing she needed were apples. Exhaling, Pearl cleared her mind.

“Twuh...!” Pearl sprang out, bending her ring and middle fingers, preparing to remove something from her gem. She brought her hands to her forehead and slowly brought them back forwards, visualizing a canvas bag of apples coming forth from her head. Once she saw them and knew for certain they were out, she eased up and let the bag drop into her hands. She placed the apples gently on the table and cracked her knuckles. “Let's get started!” she said cheerfully.

Pearl deciphered Grandma Universe's loopy, curly cursive and measured out two cups of flour. She gently scraped off the excess flour each time, dumping the remainder in the bowl. She poured out a teaspoon of salt from the cardboard container, and put it in the bowl with the flour, the two substances already blending together. Pearl briefly pulled a magic knife from out of her gem, which looked like a much smaller version of the spear she so commonly used to fight monsters. She sliced off 1/4th of a stick of butter, and placed the larger end in the bowl.

With her whisk, Pearl mixed the ingredients into a nice, thick, doughy substance. She looked back at the book and caught herself, filling a tablespoon with cold water from the tap and pouring it into the dough while mixing. She did this a total of five times, each time taking careful precaution not to add too much water or spill any on the ground. It was truly nice having the house to herself, since Steven or Amethyst would be so noisy and rambunctious, this kind of focus would be nearly impossible.

Pearl pulled her whisk out of the dough and placed it on a paper towel. She wiggled her fingers and placed her hands gently in the flour bin. She turned her hands over twice, then took to kneading the dough before her. Her fingers flexed as the food folded, the floury ball becoming more and more rounded as she dextrously turned it over and around, pressing it in on itself over and over again. Once the ball was large, Pearl split the ball with her knife and quickly zipped up half of it in a freezer bag, shutting it soundly in the refrigerator.

Pushing the bins away and clearing out a space, Pearl dusted the counter top with flour, giving the smooth stone a nice white coating. Pearl reached over and grabbed a rolling pin, and started to really use her arm strength. She rolled and rolled, checking every so often to make sure she was doing it the way Grandma Universe's recipe said to. She fetched a ruler to measure the thickness, just to make sure she was doing it by the book. She smiled in delight.

Putting the ruler away, she ran back to the kitchen, turning on the stove and turning back around to lift the flattened dough from the table. She held the dough in a bubble, realizing she forgot a pie pan. She shook her head and smiled, rolling her eyes. How silly of her! She reached down and scooped up a metal pie pan, and gently lowered the pie crust into the pan. With her thumbs, she pressed the crust against the sides of the pan, making sure it covered evenly and smoothly. She leaned in very closely, and ever so precisely cut around the edge of the pan, making sure all the edges of the crust were smooth and clean and not protruding too far off the pan. Once she was satisfied with her work, she stood upright and placed her hands on her hips, looking at this lovely pie crust. She picked up the pan and opened the door of the fridge, placing it gently inside.

As she closed the door, she peered over her shoulder at the canvas bag of apples. She smirked, entertaining a fun idea for how to prepare the filling. She summoned her sword, and in a sudden, quick arc, sent the bag of apples flying into the air, large round fruits soaring. She leaped over the counter, slicing the apples before they could even hit the ground. She stood in the living room, on one foot, and turned quickly and efficiently around with her arm outstretched as she caught each and every apple she had cut. They stood one on top of the other, and as Pearl watched, the skins peeled off and the apples revealed themselves to be diced, gravity being the only force keeping the fruits together.

Pearl tossed the cubes into her mixing bowl, making sure to pull out the cores and skins. She made her way back around the island, tossing the cores and skins into the trash as she walked, her sword disappearing back into her gem. She fiddled through the measuring cups and found the green 1/3 cup she needed. She poured a third cup of white and brown sugar each into her second bowl, a 1/4th teaspoon of salt, a teaspoon of cinnamon, ½ a teaspoon of nutmeg, and three nice tablespoons of flour. She finished it off with a splash of lemon juice, muttering to herself what kind of measurement a “splash” is and why Grandma Universe didn't find it necessary to mention the lemon juice at the beginning of the recipe.

Proud of her progress, Pearl checked the book again. She shook the bowl lightly and placed it in the fridge, bringing out the ball of dough she had placed in there earlier, rolling it out on the once again floured table. She brought her knife out again, and with careful precision, folded and sliced the remaining crust to give the pie a beautiful sliced top.

Once that was completed, she opened the refrigerator yet again, and placed her filling and crust on the table. The stove was nice and hot at this point, and Pearl was ready. She poured the filling into the crust that had been chilling in the pan, scooping it out and spreading it even with a rubber spatula. It filled the pan nicely, the apple slices looking beautifully softened and full of cinnamonny goodness.

Pearl peered over at the instructions again, cursing Grandma Universe's tendency to leave out ingredients at the beginning of the recipe. She pulled out a tiny bowl from under the island and one brown hen's egg, and made a quick egg wash for the crust. She found a pastry brush in the miscellaneous kitchen drawer, and brushed the edges of the pie shell so that they glistened.

She lowered her pie top down over the pie, trimming the excess and pressing it down with her thumbs to make a nice, puckered edge. She opened the milk and sprinkled it across the top of the pie, and brushed it gently with the remainder of the egg wash. With a shake of her wrist, she dusted cinnamon and white sugar over the crust, giving it a warm, freckly appearance that smelled like autumn air. Her pie, now complete, only needed to be baked. She picked up the tin, twirled around, and slid the metal pan into the now heated oven. She closed the door and set the timer, clapping her hands free of the flour that coated them to the wrist, and smiled. She clasped her hands as she turned around.

“Time to clean up!” She said, happy to be cleaning up her own mess for once instead of someone else's.

After about an hour, Pearl had the kitchen looking spotless, and the timer went off. She pulled down the stove's door and looked on in awe at her beautiful apple pie. She reached in and pulled it out, the scorching metal pan barely registering any pain at all to her human construct's hands. She brought the pastry up to her nose, breathing deeply and truly savoring the warm, delightful scent of the pie.

It made her think of early mornings so many years ago, when the humans would bake pies for later in the day and set them on their window sills, and the smell would waft down the streets of Beach City, mingling in a circus of olfactory joy that could be smelled from a mile away.

It made her think of rainy fall afternoons, when wet leaves would press themselves to the windows, and there would be no missions for the gems to go on, so she would stand around in the kitchen with a very young Steven, baking to make the house smell good and to have something to bribe Amethyst with so she would behave. The memories coming back to her made her giggle, stretching her smile ear to ear.

She opened her eyes again, gently placing the pie down on the counter. She didn't like the idea of eating, but nothing made her happier than to just bake and fill the house with the delicious aroma and the warm memories.

An hour or so had passed, and the scent of pie had diminished slightly. Pearl, who had been reading on the couch, looked up at the clock and giddily got up to slice the pie. As she got up, the warp pad bonged and the remaining gems (and Steven!) came home. Amethyst sniffed the air.

“Alright, Pearl made pie!” the purple gem exclaimed. She jumped off the warp pad and ran to the counter, perching herself on a stool. Steven followed soon after, climbing up the second chair and bouncing along with Amethyst in anticipation.

“Yes, I did make pie,” Pearl said, “but I'd like it if you'd at least wait for me to cut it before trying to eat it.” She smiled, pulling a knife out of her gem once again. She cut the pie in six even slices, making sure to line the cuts up just right. She scooped it out of the pan, and onto two small white plates. “One for Amethyst,” she said, placing it in front of Amethyst, who immediately started gobbling it without a fork, “and one for Steven.”

“Yay! I like pie!” Steven said. Pearl handed him a fork. “Thanks Pearl!” Steven cut the tip off the edge of his slice, and placed it in his mouth. His eyes opened wide and he slapped the table a few times, making excited noises with his closed mouth. “Mm—Pearl!” Steven said when he had swallowed his pie. “This pie is delicious! How'd you make it?”

“Oh, just some apples and cinnamon and a few other things,” Pearl smiled as she pulled her own slice out of the pie and onto a plate. “I love to make pie. It's one of my favorite things to bake!”

“Well, you're good at it! You should bake pies more often!”

“Oh Steven, thank you,” Pearl said, patting the boy's shoulder. She sat down, gazing at the edges of her pie, admiring how the gooey insides glistened in the waning sunlight, appreciating every nook and cranny, and each speck of cinnamon.

“Hey, aren't you gonna eat your piece?” Steven asked.

“No, no, I don't care for eating much,” Pearl said. “I'd rather enjoy this piece.”

“But it tastes so good!” Steven proclaimed, “You should at least _try_ your handiwork.”

“It's okay, Steven,” Pearl said, “I can smell it just fine, and I know what it would feel like based on the textures present in this slice. I don't need to eat, you know that.”

“But....” Steven trailed off, Garnet's hand on his shoulder silencing him.

“She doesn't need to eat it to like it, Steven.” Garnet said coolly.

“That's weird,” Amethyst said, finished with her first piece and eating with her face out of the pan.

“No,” Garnet said. “It's just Pearl.”

Pearl, lost in her own little world, stroked the top of her slice of pie, enjoying the sound it made against her finger.

 


End file.
